


Legally Tall, Blonde, and Dorky

by rosepetalrevolution



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, F/F, Gen, Legally Blonde, Multi, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3344048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetalrevolution/pseuds/rosepetalrevolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haruka Tenoh has it all going for her until her very best friend tells her he's moving across the country to attend Harvard Law School, and that they can't be friends anymore due to his future political career. Success is the sweetest revenge, though, as Haruka decides she's not going to let him look down on her, and enrolls at Harvard as well. Along the journey of her first year, will she finds success, friendship, and love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legally Tall, Blonde, and Dorky

Haruka Tenoh, the senior star of the CULA track squad, stepped out of a steamy post-workout shower with a smile on her face. Everything was going right – she was only a few months away from graduation, was heavily favored to qualify for the national finals, had a job lined up with the CULA athletic department, and was going to be able to continue spending the best years of her youth with her best friends in the campus town they’d grown to love and come to rule. Applying SPF 30 moisturizer to the smooth skin of her handsome face, Haruka thought of her closest girlfriends and roommates, Chibiusa and Hotaru. Chibs, as Haruka liked to call her, was a junior on the team, and the third leg of their star relay line up, passing the baton to Haruka at every meet. And Hotaru, frail and quiet Hotaru, the team’s manager who was so unlike the other two girls but balanced the inseparable trio perfectly. They meant the world to her, but there was one person who mattered more than anyone else.  
Brad was the star quarterback of the CULA football team and Haruka’s best friend since their freshman year, when an 8 AM psychology lecture brought the two grumpy, sweatpants-clad athletic stars together for a group project. In keeping with tradition, Brad was taking Haruka out to celebrate a successful year past and bring in what they hoped would be one more. His family’s clout and capital afforded him access to the most exclusive yacht club in Los Angeles, but Brad generally stayed away except for the one night a year that he and Haruka went together, as he found it to be a far more enjoyable place when his best friend was with him. Haruka had come from far more humble beginnings, as Brad’s mother usually put it, and she had a way of cutting through the bullshit of the uber-wealthy who inhabited the circles to which Brad would be expected to ascend after his graduation from Stanford Law School. In fact, Haruka was the only one who knew that Brad had no intention of attending Stanford, but instead would be taking a teaching job at one of the poorest schools in the L.A. area, an attempt to make some real change in his community. Deftly running her pomade-covered hands through her short blonde hair to achieve her signature windswept style, Haruka strolled from the bathroom to her bedroom to get dressed and head over to Brad’s fraternity house to pick him up.  
~  
Letting out a long blast on the horn of her pride and joy, a 1972 MG Midget that she’d restored herself, Haruka waved and called out to Trevor and Mike, two of Brad’s closest frat bros who were carrying a keg onto the gigantic house’s porch. “Tell Prince Charming to hurry up, will ya? I know that he practically needs a magical transformation anytime he’s going out in public, but we don’t have all night!” Within moments, Brad emerged, his Ray-Bans and boat shoes and quarter-zip sweater all perfect markers of his status as campus royalty.   
“Ah yes, good idea for you to drive I suppose, as I plan to get star-spangled hammered tonight and go home with that pretty little Sigma Sigma Eta I’ve been telling you about.” Brad swung his door shut and grinned at Haruka. “Now let’s just see if we can find you some tail tonight, my friend.” Simultaneously blushing and laughing, Haruka called Brad a few choice words, swatted him on the back of the head, turned up the radio, and sped away from frat row. While she had very little to her name, Haruka Tenoh wanted for nothing in these moments, the peak of her youth, when she ruled campus with her best friend and partner in crime.  
~  
It had been three days since Haruka and Brad had gone to the club, and as far as Chibiusa and Hotaru could tell, she hadn’t gotten out of bed to go any further than the bathroom. At first they thought she was just really hungover, or that she had actually allowed Brad to set her up with one of the sorority girls and was spending the day cuddling. When Monday rolled around and Haruka failed to show up for practice, her roommates became far more seriously worried. It wasn’t until lunchtime on Tuesday, though, that Haruka finally emerged into their kitchen, carrying the empty box and individual wrappers from a bulk-sized container of snack-packaged brownie bites and looking like she was ready to kill a man. “Shit, Ruka. I’m glad you’re alive and all that, but what’s happened to you?” Chibiusa asked through a mouthful of pizza. Haruka tossed the garbage into the can under the sink and then sat down between her two roommates, resting her elbows on the table and her head in her hands.  
“Sorry to worry you two like that, it’s just that Brad, that motherfu… Well, we’re not friends anymore.” Chibiusa put down the oversized slice in her hands, but Hotaru reached out to rub Haruka’s back first.  
“Come on now, Ruka, you and Brad are the closest friends I think I’ve ever seen. What do you mean you’re not friends anymore?” The two juniors exchanged a worried glance as Haruka sat silently, her breathing measured but deliberate and carrying more force than usual. With a groan, Haruka raised her head, messy blonde hair flopping all over the place in a rare display of dishevelment from the secretly-vain superstar.   
“Well, he bought me a few beers at the club the other night, we were having a great old time, and suddenly he tells me that he’s decided to not stay in L.A. after graduation anymore. And I’m thinking ‘okay, maybe he’s decided that law school really is the way to go, good for him, Stanford’s only an hour and a half flight from here so he’ll be around all the time.’ And I’m right, at least about the first part. He’s going to law school, just like his parents always wanted, and apparently just like he’s always wanted even though that was a bold faced lie. But he’s not going to Stanford.” Haruka stood and walked over to the refrigerator, pulling a carton of orange juice out to pour herself a glass. “No, he’s going to Harvard. In Massachusetts. 3,000 miles away.”   
Hotaru sat silently as Chibiusa frowned and asked, “When did he find out? And why didn’t he tell you sooner?” Haruka kicked at a piece of kibble that had rolled away from their kitten’s dish, very visibly attempting to act as though she hadn’t heard the question. “Haruka?”  
“He’s known for a month now,” she said bitterly, without looking up to her friends. “He’s been waiting to tell me because his moving away when he’d promised he’d be staying here wasn’t the only thing he’s been thinking about. Basically he told me that we can’t be friends anymore, that he needs to focus less on hanging out with me and more on networking with the ‘right people.’ Which means the rich people, the powerful people, the people he takes seriously. White men who’ve taken over the family business after four generations, just like he wants to take over the family seat in Congress when the time comes. And apparently voters in Orange County wouldn’t be especially pleased to hear that their future representative spends all his free time driving around town with a poor Japanese lesbian who could barely manage to maintain the minimum GPA for her athletic scholarship. So he’s ditched me, told me that if I’m really his friend, I’ll let him go and pursue his dreams. What a crock of shit.”  
For once, Chibiusa was reduced to silence, her mouth agape in disgusted astonishment. It was Hotaru who spoke first, her soft voice deepened and amplified in a way her friends had only heard a few times before, when she was very, very serious. “So what are you gonna do about it, Haruka? Sit around here moping because some fratty jerk friend-dumped you? Or are you gonna do something with all that energy you’re building up from being pissed off about it?” Haruka looked up into Hotaru’s big violet eyes, eyes that gleamed as Haruka’s quietly-dramatic friend began to devise a plan. “You should go too. To Harvard. Show him that you’re not some loser. And when he suddenly wants to be your friend again, tell him it’s too late, you’re on your way to making real changes in the world and can’t be known to associate with stuffy prep school or yacht club types. Get back at him for trying to insult your pride, for belittling your dreams and your capabilities. Don’t let him get away with this.”  
Haruka couldn’t believe it, but there was a part of her that thought Hotaru’s plan was genius. Unfortunately, the rest of her didn’t think she could pull it off. Chibiusa’s eyes softened from her usually intense gaze, and she pulled the fuzzy pink wraps that had long ago become her signature accessories from the high pigtails she always wore. “Here,” the baby-faced girl said, handing the hair ties over to Haruka.  
“Chibiusa… your scrunchies?” the blonde asked, confused humility on her voice but skepticism in her eyes.   
“They’re my lucky scrunchies, silly. They helped me pass Spanish.” Chibiusa only thrust the scrunchies at Haruka more insistently.  
Hotaru rolled her eyes and sighed, not about to let her girlfriend get away with such behavior. “You passed Spanish because you told Professor Montoya that if he didn’t give you at least a C, you’d personally make sure he didn’t make it through the impending disaster that would destroy the world before a benevolent matriarch rose to salvage virtuous human life.”  
Chibiusa glared at Hotaru in frustration and shook her head. “Yeah, luckily.”  
The conversation had turned a bit too silly for Haruka’s tastes, but as she mindlessly slipped the fluffy purple scrunchies onto her wrist, the embers of her resentment took on the feel of motivation. Hotaru was right: who did Brad think he was, talking to her like that, throwing away their friendship since it was no longer convenient, throwing away his noble dreams for the allure of power and wealth? And how dare he imply that Haruka wasn’t good enough, was beneath him? “Girls,” she finally said, breaking up the playful bickering that her roommates had fallen into. “I’m going to Harvard.”  
~  
The next few weeks flew by as though Haruka were living in a montage with a catchy pop tune about believing in yourself playing in the background. While she’d been taken aback by the conversation she’d had with one of the University’s academic advisors (“Nobody at Harvard is going to be impressed that you aced History of Motocross!”) and her own parents (“Law school is for people who are nerdy, and stuck up, and rich, and you, Button, are none of those things”), Haruka found the motivation to complete her application through the help of her friends. Chibiusa diligently reviewed LSAT materials with her, even as they could hear the rest of the track team out partying in their yard, and Hotaru directed her admissions video essay with a great deal of care.   
When the big day finally arrived, Haruka went for an early morning run to clear her head, ate the healthy pre-exam breakfast that her roommates made just for her, and made her way to the large hall on campus where she’d spend the next 5 hours taking the LSAT. The test was difficult, no doubt, but Chibiusa had encouraged her to visualize the scenarios and take her time. Haruka might not have been the best student, but she had an intelligence of her own kind, one that served her well in solving the problems she faced in the real world – finding what needed to be repaired on a car, understanding what her body needed to do in the heat of a race, caring about people and trying her best to help them. Hell, just that made her a better person than Brad, Haruka realized, as his ‘book smarts’ were reserved for only helping himself, and certainly not for understanding the lives of people outside his luxurious kingdom. No matter what happened with the test, Haruka could breathe easy knowing that she’d really put her all into this. She could take or leave Harvard at this point, as she’d been successful in her true mission of pushing herself and forgetting about how hurt she’d been just a short month prior. Now, though, there was nothing left to do but wait.  
~  
A motorcycle skidded onto the scene dramatically, the rider’s face obscured by a helmet with a dark mask. Dramatic guitar music, reminiscent in style to the theme from Top Gun, began to play as the lone figure got off the bike and removed her helmet. Running one hand suavely through her short, sandy hair, she turned her striking green eyes to the camera as though she were making eye contact with the viewers in an effort to seduce them, and introduced herself. “Hey there, I’m Haruka Tenoh, and this is my Harvard Law School admissions video essay.” A well-timed wink was the finishing touch on the first scene of what would surely become a cinematic masterpiece for the ages.  
“There are lots of reasons I’m qualified to join the Harvard Law Class of 2004,” Haruka said to the camera, now lounging poolside in swim trunks, a tank top, and aviators. “For example, I can recall important details at the drop of a hat!” Along the bottom of the screen, Hotaru floated into view on an inflatable chair in the water. “Hey Haruka, do you know what happened on Days of Our Lives this week?” “Why yes, Hotaru, I do. Once again we join Hope in the search for her identity. As you know, she’s been brainwashed by the evil Stefano.” Haruka’s eyes were obscured by the tinted lenses, but her grin was enough to drive home her confidence in herself.   
With a scene change, Haruka was back in her motorcycle racing gear, but this time surrounded by competitors. “I have a competitive spirit and feel comfortable using legal jargon in everyday life!” A burly, disgruntled man approached Haruka from behind and snarled, “Hey, Tenoh! You beat us all, and you’re a girl! You’re gonna pay for that next time…” As soon as he put his hand on Haruka’s shoulder, though, she flipped him over her shoulder, laying him out flat on his back. Pressing one boot into his chest, she looked down at him and replied, “I object to your sexist ideas, and don’t plan on losing to you or anyone at all.” Only a faint, defeated whimper could be heard from off screen as Haruka’s eyes flashed with energy.  
“So that’s why you should vote for me, Haruka Tenoh, for the Harvard Law School Class of 2004!” The final scene was Haruka standing on top of a large, cylindrical pillar in what appeared to be a public park. While she was wearing a horrendous shade of off-gold, her smile and charm drew attention away from her wardrobe choices (the storm of rose petals flying through the air behind her did not hurt this, either). In one last shot, the camera zoomed in on her roguishly handsome face, only to freeze when the woman sitting at the head of the mahogany table pressed the pause button.  
The head of the admissions committee looked around the room at her colleagues, many of whom still had their eyes transfixed on the striking woman on the screen. At last, one woman spoke up, “You know, we’ve never had an exercise science major at Harvard Law before, and we’re always talking about trying to diversify…” The administrator to her right continued, a deep blush spreading across her face: “And she spends her time restoring old cars, clearly she’s inventive and… well…” The eldest woman on the committee narrowed her eyes and curled her lips into a sly smile at her colleague from across the table: “Just spit it out, Susan.” Susan’s blush became contagious as she articulated her final thought on the video: “…clearly she’s good with her hands.” The committee chair cleared her throat and broke the silence to remind the other members that Ms. Tenoh had scored relatively well on her LSAT and maintained the required GPA at CULA while participating in athletics and student leadership. A quick vote was taken, and a unanimous decision reached by the 8 women seated around the table. “Haruka Tenoh,” the committee chair proclaimed to the image of the track star and future law student still smiling on the screen. “Welcome to Harvard.”


End file.
